Sometimes not enough to look back
to understand why we are all in the same storm .
I hope these poems help you find freedom from your prison
and heal your wings so you can fly again forever
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I feel now defeat a note of maturity, something like funerals, primary impotence of good. I eat everything wrong, and impels me to the error, the false path where all die by terror.
A sign buries me, fills me with disappointment, I dissent covers, and I surrender to the inclemency. We have been driven out of the city of God, boil them in impotence, our dreams dead, including arms lila underworld.
We are Dumps between backbiting, full of eternal fear getting hurt because we hurt, and hating to please the evil. Every time someone dies, the sky is closing crudely.
Injustice and materialism marauding, the sign opens its mouth innocent and simple cause of things away without being present.
Angers awash in blood and killing each other, with bodies of other offal. I feel like light, rattling in the wind conviction is extinguished, as it sinks in the south with the hosts of suffering.
The sky vomits angels, the earth will swallow, and fall thousands of innocents, in the sea of other obituaries. Clouds are the crypts, in the sea of eternal oblivion, never to be away, while still burning hell.
Fog in shady quarters, ghosts and black warriors, who finalized with cold silver, vitriolic wrathful.
This is the work of the lookouts, the renegades guards, who tempt consciousness fornicate with sins.
There is no salvation for this, and do not want to free the hostages of time, and laceration are to be used, the betrayals of heaven, and never see the art that seers gave way, seeing out, the sky they were born.
